Saturday, January 22, 2011

One Chorus Let All Beings Raise

Universal Prayer
by Alexander Pope


Father of all! In every age,
In every clime adored,
By saint, by savage, and by sage,
Jehovah, Jove, or Lord!

Thou Great First Cause, least understood
Who all my sense confined
To know but this, that Thou art good
And that myself am blind.

Yet gave me, in this dark estate,
To see the good from ill;
And, binding Nature fast in fate,
Left free the human will.

What conscience dictates to be done,
Or warns me not to do,
This teach me more than Hell to shun,
That more than Heaven pursue.

What blessings Thy free bounty gives
Let me not cast away;
For God is paid when man receives:
To enjoy is to obey.

Yet not to earth’s contracted span
Thy goodness let me bound.
Or think Thee Lord alone of man,
When thousand worlds are round.

Let not this weak, unknowing hand
Presume Thy bolts to throw,
And teach damnation round the land
On each I judge Thy foe.

If I am right, Thy grace import
Still in the right to stay;
If I am wrong, oh teach my heart
To find that better way!

Save me alike from foolish pride,
Or impious discontent,
At aught Thy wisdom has denied,
Or aught that goodness lent.

Teach me to feel another’s woe,
To right the fault I see;
That mercy I to others show,
That mercy show to me.

Mean though I am, not wholely so,
Since quickened by Thy breath;
Oh, lead me wheresoe'er I go,
Through this day’s life or death.

This day be bread and peace my lot;
All else beneath the sun
Though know’st if best bestowed or not,
And let Thy will be done!

To Thee Whose temple is of space,—
Whose altar earth, sea, skies,—
One chorus let all beings raise!
All Nature’s incense rise.

Pope wrote this prayer, usually appended to the "Essay on Man," in 1738; part of the reason being that he became worried that some expressions in the earlier work could be read in a Spinozistic way. I find it somewhat amusing that Lennox's article in the 1911 Catholic Encyclopedia says of it that "despite the piety it displays, [it] is not entirely convincing"; amusing, but I'm not sure it's entirely fair to Pope.

Bed, Boat, or Balloon

It is the great peril of our society that all its mechanisms may grow more fixed while its spirit grows more fickle. A man's minor actions and arrangements ought to be free, flexible, creative; the things that should be unchangeable are his principles, his ideals. But with us the reverse is true; our views change constantly; but our lunch does not change. Now, I should like men to have strong and rooted conceptions, but as for their lunch, let them have it sometimes in the garden, sometimes in bed, sometimes on the roof, sometimes in the top of a tree. Let them argue from the same first principles, but let them do it in a bed, or a boat, or a balloon. This alarming growth of good habits really means a too great emphasis on those virtues which mere custom can ensure, it means too little emphasis on those virtues which custom can never quite ensure, sudden and splendid virtues of inspired pity or of inspired candour. If ever that abrupt appeal is made to us we may fail. A man can get used to getting up at five o'clock in the morning. A man cannot very well get used to being burnt for his opinions; the first experiment is commonly fatal. Let us pay a little more attention to these possibilities of the heroic and unexpected.

G. K. Chesterton, "On Lying in Bed," Tremendous Trifles

Friday, January 21, 2011

Christ's Little Lamb

St. Agnes
by Alfred Tennyson


Deep on the convent-roof the snows
Are sparkling to the moon:
My breath to heaven like vapour goes:
May my soul follow soon!
The shadows of the convent-towers
Slant down the snowy sward,
Still creeping with the creeping hours
That lead me to my Lord:
Make Thou my spirit pure and clear
As are the frosty skies,
Or this first snowdrop of the year
That in my bosom lies.

As these white robes are soil'd and dark,
To yonder shining ground;
As this pale taper's earthly spark,
To yonder argent round;
So shows my soul before the Lamb,
My spirit before Thee;
So in mine earthly house I am,
To that I hope to be.
Break up the heavens, O Lord! and far,
Thro' all yon starlight keen,
Draw me, thy bride, a glittering star,
In raiment white and clean.

He lifts me to the golden doors;
The flashes come and go;
All heaven bursts her starry floors,
And strows her lights below,
And deepens on and up! the gates
Roll back, and far within
For me the Heavenly Bridegroom waits,
To make me pure of sin.
The sabbaths of Eternity,
One sabbath deep and wide--
A light upon the shining sea--
The bridegroom with his bride!

Today is the Feast of St. Agnes, the most widely known of the Virgin Martyrs. Tennyson's poem was later re-titled "St. Agnes' Eve," which echoes Keats's poem of the same name; and, indeed, it's clear that this poem is nothing other than Tennyson's riff on Keats's poem.

Everyone should know the basic story of St. Agnes, if only because it has been so common a theme in art and literature. Because she's an early martyr, there are lots of variations, of course, and thus a lot of room for artists and writers to take a bit of artistic license.

St. Agnes plays a key role (although is not the main character) in Cardinal Wiseman's novel Fabiola, which is actually pretty decent if you want some fairly light reading about her.

Linkable Links

* Dire Straits' "Money for Nothing" has apparently been banned from Canadian radio and television

* The practical difficulties of the (in-principle possible) task of making something that is to cats what lasers are to photons.

* John Wilkins talks about species.

* A discussion of civil rights advocate T.R.M. Howard.

* An argument that there's a close connection between Galileo's Dante scholarship and his physics. The basic idea in the argument is that a blunder in Galileo's lectures on the Inferno -- which had been important for his early reputation as a Florentine intellectual in a time and place when reputation was livelihood -- made Galileo realize the importance of scaling laws. (ht) ADDED LATER: Thony C corrects some misapprehensions arising from the article.

* Werner Arber has been appointed to head the Pontifical Academy of Sciences. Arber is a Swiss microbiologist most famous for his work in discovering restriction enzymes, for which he shared the 1978 Nobel Prize for Physiology or Medicine. Arber is replacing Nicola Cabibbo, and is the first Protestant to head the Academy in its 200-something year history. (Not 400-something, as the article says -- to stretch the duration back that far you have to include predecessor organizations that dissolved or were abolished at one point or another for 400 years. It would be more accurate to say that, barring some gaps, for 400 years there has been some organization doing more or less what the Pontifical Academy has been doing since the 1800s, but the Pontifical Academy itself is merely the latest instance.)

* Tim Troutman on unity and beauty.

* Will Thomas has an excellent post on Hume's 'philosophical chemistry' of sentiments and explanation of the passions.

* D. G. Myers on William James and the liberal arts.

The Art is Long, His Cash Got Short

Love and Physic
by Bret Harte


A clever man was Dr. Digg;
Misfortunes well he bore;
He never lost his patience till
He had no patients more;
And though his practice once was large,
It did not swell his gains;
The pains he labored for were but
The labor for his pains.

The "art is long," his cash got short,
And well might Galen dread it,
For who will trust a name unknown
When merit gets no credit?
To marry seemed the only way
To ease his mind of trouble;
Misfortunes never singly come,
And misery made him double.

He had a patient, rich and fair,
That hearts by scores was breaking,
And as he once had felt her wrist,
He thought her hand of taking;
But what the law makes strangers do,
Did strike his comprehension;
Who live in these United States,
Do first declare intention.

And so he called. His beating heart
With anxious fears was swelling,
And half in habit took her hand
And on her tongue was dwelling;
But thrice tho' he essayed to speak,
He stopp'd, and stuck, and blundered;
For say, what mortal could be cool
Whose pulse was most a hundred?

"Madam," at last he faltered out,--
His love had grown courageous,--
"I have discerned a new complaint,
I hope to prove contagious;
And when the symptoms I relate,
And show its diagnosis,
Ah, let me hope from those dear lips,
Some favorable prognosis.

"This done," he cries, "let's tie those ties
Which none but death can sever;
Since 'like cures like,' I do infer
That love cures love, forever."
He paused -- she blushed; however strange
It seems on first perusal,
Altho' there was no promise made,
She gave him a refusal.

Says she, "If well I understand
The sentiments you're saying,
You do propose to take a hand--
A game that two are playing--
At whist; one's partner ought to be
As silent as a mummy,
But in the game of love, I think,
I shall not take a dummy.

"I cannot marry one who lives
By other folks' distresses;
The man I marry, I must love,
Nor fear his fond caresses;
For who, whatever be their sex,
However strange the case is,
Would like to have a doctor's bill
Stuck up into their faces?"

Perhaps you think, 'twixt love and rage,
He took some deadly potion,
Or with his lancet breathed a vein
To ease his pulse's motion.
To guess the vent of his despair,
The wisest one might miss it;
He reached his office -- then and there
He charged her for the visit!

Thursday, January 20, 2011

On a Recent Contagion of Madness in the Catholic Blogosphere

One of the recent furors in the Catholic blogosphere has been over sexual continence for permanent deacons. It is a good example of the sheer nastiness of Catholics in debate, and several of the offerings in the debate have been cases of attacks that are either dishonest or extraordinarily uncharitable toward Ed Peters, the canon lawyer who inadvertently touched off the whole thing by simply noting that canon law has no provision exempting permanent deacons from the clerical obligation to refrain from sex. I've found it somewhat disturbing, especially as a number of the nastier responses have been from people who ordinarily have good sense.

Peters is not talking out of ignorance here; he's done a considerable amount of study on the subject, and the argument he lays out is quite solid. Law, including canon law, can be weird because it can have unusual conventions (arising from its practical function) that affect what arguments can be accepted or rejected, but structurally there's no problem with it, and Peters is savvy enough not to get tripped up on quirks in canon law conventions. The argument is basically this: Canon law requires of clerics a "perfect and perpetual continence," that is, exceptionless and permanent abstinence from sexual relations. Permanent deacons are clerics. While it exempts permanent deacons from a number of other obligations required of clerics generally (e.g., it allows non-celibates, which in canon law simply means married men, to become permanent deacons), canon law never actually exempts permanent deacons from "perfect and perpetual continence." Indeed, several features of canon law, such as the requirement that married men receive the consent of their wives before being ordained, and the fact that an exemption to this very obligation was dropped from the final promulgation of the 1983 Code, are reasonably interpreted as implying that, all things considered, the obligation to sexual continence does apply to permanent deacons. This does not conform to common assumptions by permanent deacons, nor their assumptions to it, and for reasons not really their fault, since it is not standard practice to inform candidates for the diaconate and their wives. By canon law as well, no one gives up a right if they are not aware that in doing something it is expected for them to do so, and wives have the right to conjugal relations. Thus those deacons who are not currently exercising "perfect and perpetual continence" will in general not be guilty of any fault according to canon law, if they are otherwise being chaste; but, despite the importance of custom to canon law, the conditions under which this customary understanding has developed (namely, simply not informing candidates to the diaconate of even the possibility that they might be under such an obligation, and having existed for less than thirty years) are not such as to allow the custom to be the ground for an exception for permanent deacons. On the basis of this, Peters argues, there are a few options: either the law as it stands should be kept, and deacons from now on made aware of the expectation; or it should be changed on the basis of a developed and coherent theological account of the distinction between deacons and priests, one that has not yet been put forward. What is certainly not going to work is having the law as it stands and nobody following it.

Such is the argument given by Dr. Peters; if you have any doubts about it, you can read it yourself, and you will find that this is an accurate, albeit somewhat simplified, summary. It's fairly straightforward, although the relation between custom and law gets a bit tricky, and Dr. Peters draws no practical conclusion beyond arguing that the situation needs to be properly addressed, either by making people aware of the obligation or by starting the process of changing canon law as it stands so that it expresses a better theological understanding of the diaconate. Calling people's attention to something like this is a service, one of the best services to the Church a canon lawyer can render, because confusions or obscurities in canon law almost always are symptoms of deeper theological confusions or obscurities; and as the number of permanent deacons increases, better understanding of how this form of ordination optimally works will be crucial. But if you were to start not with Peters's own argument but with the responses that has been touched off when it reached the awareness of certain people in the blogosphere, you would think that the whole argument is that permanent deacons are wrong to have sex with their wives and should be punished for it, despite the fact that the whole thrust of the argument is in a very different direction. In several cases the claims that have been made about Dr. Peters have been such that they can only be considered either outright lies or signs that the person in question is condemning Dr. Peters without having even bothered to read the argument, despite its being available and open for everyone to read. This is very troubling. Dr. Peters is not advocating a "rigorist, legalistic understanding of canon law" and indeed explicitly leaves open the option that canon law should be changed: his argument is merely about what canon law actually says at present, and this has nothing to do with rigorism or legalism. He doesn't claim that there is anything "troubling about married permanent deacons having sexual relations with their wives"; he is claiming that there is an overlooked disparity between law and practice that needs to be addressed somehow. It is not a case of "legalism is trumping common sense for this busybody canonist" because not only is there no legalism here but it is thoroughly irrational to claim that a canonist is being a "busybody" for noting that a situation exists that either shows that canon law on the point is inadequate or that candidates to the diaconate (and their wives!) are not being properly informed of what they are consenting to. And Peters has made this either...or explicit at least three or four times now in the discussion; there is no excuse for ignoring it.

I confess that I am very irritated by this whole thing; this is not the sort of dispute I would ordinarily get into, because it's a tempest in a teacup: the only real issues in question here are whether an exemption needs to be explicitly added to canon law and whether practices regarding deacons need to begin slowly to change. That's the sort of thing reasonable people sit down and muse calmly over. But there have been so many disturbing attacks on Ed Peters over it, when the man is just doing his job and trying to clarify issues of canon law, that it just seemed less and less feasible to stand by while this sort of attack was going on. I have no authority whatsoever and I can pretty much guarantee that no one will listen to me even if they happen to read this, but somebody needs to say it: the people who have been slinging insults in Peters's direction need to apologize and quiet down to a calm and sensible tone. The lack of charity that has been shown on the subject has begun to disturb bystanders like myself who have no particular horse in the race, and has begun to be a flat-out embarrassment.

Wednesday, January 19, 2011

Wisdom from Weil

To say that the world is not worth anything, that this life has no value and to give evil as the proof is absurd, for if these things are worthless what does evil take from us?

Simone Weil, Gravity and Grace, Routledge (New York: 2007) p. 84.